Hollow
by Sakusha
Summary: All of Youji's conquests come down to one thing really, finding that one thing that will fill his empty soul.Yaoi
1. Haunted

Ok guys, here is the sad truth: I don't own them.

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**Hollow**

Chapter 1: Haunted

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The first thing I noticed was the eye's. An intense color of green I'd never seen before. He was simply gorgeous. There was no other was to describe him. His blond hair pulled back in a ponytail, tight black leather pants, and a silver silk shirt that was begging to be touched, the way it hung so perfectly on his body. He bought me a drink. Screwdriver. I'd already had two, but who passes up free drinks, especially when someone like that's buying?

We danced like there was no tomorrow. God could he dance. His movements were graceful and seductive. The temperature rose with every touch, our bodies lost to the rhythm. Not much talking, at least not with words. The way he danced spoke volumes though. I knew tonight I would not be leaving here alone.

I had another drink. He had two. I hoped that the alcohol would not have an effect on performance from either of us. We both knew where this was heading, and though I didn't do this that often, I had no reservations.

Nice car. We took his. I'd have to catch a cab to pick mine up in the morning. I suggested my place. I got the feeling he didn't live alone, and I felt a little safer in my own environment. Well, as safe as you can be going home with a complete stranger, anyway.

We hardly made it through the front door. His hands were everywhere. Talented hands. He knew just where to touch. When to move quickly, and when to bring it to a slow burn. It occurred to me through the heat that we'd created that he'd done this quite often. I found myself wondering why he's not with someone. Or if he was, where that person is right now. Then I couldn't think at all. His tongue is just as talented as his hands, and his body burned with the need for release just as mine, and just as it washes over, I catch his eyes again. Heavy, lust ridden green eyes. And even though I'm at the threshold of release, it occurs to me that he's not really there. His eyes aren't seeing me, they are seeing something else. Somebody else.

I find that all-consuming burn and let it wash over me. My nails bit his shoulders. A half-choked scream leaves my throat as my body finally gives into the heat. I shudder as I come back to earth, and feel him tighten above me. Every fiber of his being tenses and I feel him tighten his hold on my hips, teeth clenching as he grunts his own release.

He collapses on top of me and we both pant for breath, our sweat-ridden bodies plastered together for the moment.

Without a doubt, that has got to be the best sex I've had in a long long time. He rolls over slightly, and I take that as permission to go wash up. I stand at the mirror in the bathroom, and I contemplate the look in his eyes just minutes before. He was definitely with someone else at that moment, and though I should be hurt, or at least a little agitated, I find that I actually feel bad for him. After all, I knew from the moment he set his green eyes upon me that it was sex and nothing more. But he seemed to be fooling himself of something.

He didn't seem to notice me as I came back into the room. He was standing at the window, looking down on the city lights, smoking. I don't like smoking, but I let it go. He looked like he could use it. I stood quietly taking in his profile. Gone was the enigmatic smile and charming disposition. He looked lost. Like he was looking for something he couldn't find. I guess I startled him because when he looked my way, I saw a deep sadness in those eyes. I don't think he meant for me to see that. He put on his charming façade once again.

I told him he could stay the night. He thanked me, but declined, slipping on his clothing, he headed for the door.

We'd shared a moment, and though I hardly knew the man, but I felt compelled help ease some of his misery.

"You should go them."

He paused at the door, maybe shocked that someone saw through the facade.

"You should go to whoever it is that you're thinking about. Before you regret it," I finished.

He twitched, and answered, a bitter laugh laced his voice.

"I already regret it."

"Then what are you waiting for?" I asked honestly.

Again he paused, "Redemption. Absolution. I don't know really."

Not the answer I was expecting. There was a quiet moment where neither of us spoke, but then he continued,"Maybe I'll find it, maybe I won't."

"Maybe you'll find it with that other person. The one you're thinking about right now," I suggested.

"Or.." He added with much thought, "I'll taint him with my darkness and my salvation will become the same as me, and we'll both be lost."

_Him?_ Well, who woulda guessed.

The room had an uncomfortable air about it by now, two strangers talking about something much deeper than just sex. It felt quite odd. This man, whoever he was had a pit of sadness inside of him that needed to be healed, and I was not the one to help him.

"Or, it could just be that being lost together would be better than being lost alone." Really who was I to give advice, but it sounded right at the time.

"But I have to ask...." He paused to listen as I questioned, but did not turn, hand still on the door, "Why?"

At first I didn't think he understood the question, he took so long to answer, maybe he didn't know himself. Then he replied, "The eyes. You have the eyes."

And he left, closing the door behind him.

Standing at my dresser, I pulled off my earrings, brushed my hair and looked into the mirror, blue eyes reflecting back. Wide blue eyes that always made me look younger than I actually was.

As I climbed into my sheets, I felt sorrow for the man I'd shared my bed with an hour before. Maybe even a little for myself. Casual sex, while good for that moment, just wasn't what I had been looking for after all. It made me feel quite hollow. I expect the feeling was tenfold for the blond, and I just couldn't fathom living like that from day to day. What a truly sad existence it must be.

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This started out as a sad little one shot, but I was challenged to make it something more. The rest of this fic is for Moonraven. Thank you. 


	2. Hunted

Chapter 2: Hunted

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I find myself a parking spot and turn off the engine. The club I have picked for the night isn't one off my usual. Matter of fact, I've never been to a club like this before. The music is the same. I can hear it from across the street when the door opens. The patrons however are a bit different. I step out and set the alarm. Luckily the hood is already up. A convertible has its advantages, but disadvantages as well. The hood takes forever to put up and lock and I want to get out of the cold and into Babylon as soon as possible. I check myself quickly in the side mirror. I'm a sexy bastard and I know it. I decide to keep the sunglasses on for effect. Gives me an air of mystery. The woman seem to like it, don't know if the men will.

My wait at the door is minimum, and I start to realize why. They only pick the beautiful ones to go in. The doorman thinks I'm beautiful. Hell, he doesn't know me then, now does he.

The music is practically deafning from in here, the beat methodic. It's pretty dark, accept for the colored lights highlighting the fog sitting on the dance floor. The music draws my eyes to the crowd lost in mindless rhythm. A bar to my left offers some comfort. I need a drink. Two whisky shots later I turn my attention to the dance floor again, taping my fingers to the beat. I scan the crowd. Bodies grinding together rhythmically, losing their souls to each other. Mine is already gone, so this wont be to hard.

I can't make out the faces, but even from my seat I can see that the woman here are clearly not interested in the men. Vice versa. They're not what I came here for tonight anyway. I straighten my self up a bit, ruffle my blond locks and tilt my glasses for that perfect come hither look and decide it is time. Youji Kudou is no coward. I take my place on the dance floor.

They are all beautiful, every one of them. Some more masculine, some more effeminate, but each as inviting as the last. I know what I want; I'll have to hold out till I find the perfect eyes.

Eyes that remind me that I want so much more than this farce. Eyes that can't seem to see how truly wretched of a man I am. But I know. I cannot forget, and so I keep playing the part, aside form killing, it's all I really have.

I'm not dancing by myself, far from it in fact. As the music changes and the beat slows, the floor practically becomes one big orgy. Touch. Feel. I start to loose myself. This is what I know. It doesn't matter who is doing it, as long as I can remember and forget all at the same time. Want. Need. Fear. Hate.

My eyes catch the most provocative image I have seen thus far. Ten, maybe twelve feet away, a couple locked together, hips grinding with a slow heat. It's the smaller of the two that holds my interest. His hair is maybe light brown or blond. Hard to tell in the light. It's silky looking and laced with glitter. His features, though also hard to see, are angelic, though his body speaks of something else entirely. As they kiss I can't help but stare and lust flairs inside of me. The taller one starts to trace a trail of kisses down the blonds' throat, and he throws his head back to give more access, eyes closed in passion. I feel it all the way down to my groin. My breath comes short, and I realize I want him. A temporary substitute for something I'll never have. Like so many woman. At least the fantasy can be that much more real.

Suddenly I'm shoved from behind. Somewhere along the line I had stopped dancing, the intensity of my lust controlling my mind. My glasses go flying as I stumble. The glasses are a loss. If I can barely see faces in this light, anything on the floor is pretty much gone in the darkness. Righting myself I look for that form that captured me. I spot the taller one with dark hair, but he is now dancing with someone else. Good, maybe their not together and I can get my hands on that sweet willing body. However, as I look over the crowd, the other is nowhere to be found. I start to panic. I want him. I don't know who he is but I need to possess that body for the night. To keep at bay the darkness that haunts me.

Finally I realize that this place is conducive to anonymity. There's no way I'm going to find a specific person in a place like this. I need another drink. This times its vodka. Why bother with pretenses. I'm going to get drunk anyway, why not do it now. Sitting the empty cup down I'm startled to realize that the person I was looking for is beside me, sitting on a bar stool not two feet away. Even though he has his back to me I can tell it is him. And from this distance I can tell his hair _is_ blond, I wasn't just guessing. Now if only the eyes...

I put on a most charming smile and slide up behind him, weaving my hand around his waist. I lower my mouth to nibble on his ear. At first he stiffens in alarm, and I'm afraid I misread the situation. Maybe he's already taken. But slowly he relaxes and tilts his head as I bring my tongue to his jaw line. It's the most I can get at this angle, but I want more.

"Why don't we get out of here and have some real fun," I suggest, whispering in his ear.

"I was about to say the same thing," He answers, standing as he turns to meet my lips. Suddenly he goes ridged in my arms and takes a step back with a hitched breath.

His eyes are shocked and I fell like I've been punched in the gut when I realize that I know these perfect blue eyes.

"_Omi?!"_

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	3. Whole

Chapter 3: Whole

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Speechless. We both were. Stood there gaping like idiots for a full minute.

He couldn't deny that he was there, any more than I could deny that I'd just propositioned him. That last half hour where I had secretly watched him hit me full force. It replayed and replayed in my head, and it wasn't getting any better. I was horrified. I had watched him grind his hips into another man's crotch. I had watched him tongue fucking a total stranger. I watched him turn to me with lust in his eyes, just before recognition set in. Gods.

He would have gone with me. He would have gone with the other guy. He would have given it to anybody. Just like me. I was going to be sick.

As I stood there Omi seemed get it together long enough to start looking for a means of escape. My mind screamed, 'STOP HIM!'. Quickly, I grabbed him by the wrist and practically dragged him towards the nearest exit.

"Whoa there buddy, where ya goin'?" The voice came from nowhere and I found myself suddenly restrained. I looked down at a hand pressed against my chest and then looked up to the voice that came with it. It was the guy Omi had been with out on the dance floor.

"Me and blondie here have some unfinished business. Go find your own piece off ass," The man insisted, leering at the body behind me.

Blood pounded in my ears. I looked into that smug face, and then sent it sprawling onto the dance floor. Then I started forward. I wasn't satisfied that his face was bloodied. I wanted him dead. How _dare_ he. Suddenly, I felt another restraining hand on my chest, this one much smaller.

"Youji!" Omi stood in front of me, his voice was low but dangerous, eyes lit with anger. It cut through the murderous haze, and gave 'Mr. Dance floor' the chance he needed to escape with his life. Omi grabbed my hand, though it was still poised to fight and pulled me out into the night air.

I trailed him out, then brought him up short when I yanked my hand from his." Omi what are you....?" I needed an explanation. I needed to know.

Omi turned to look at me, and I realized that he wasn't just angry. He was furious.

"What the _fuck_ are you doing here Youji?" He snarled. My God I had never seen him this angry.

"I....me?" What was I doing? I was whoring myself, pure and simple. I couldn't even begin to answer that properly. Instead, I stood there with my mouth open, looking like a codfish.

"Why is it ok for you, but not for me?" He knew exactly what I didn't want to say. He always does. Sees right through me and makes me think about the things I'm normally so good at hiding. Shit.

"Why?" Again he asked, still pushing me for an answer I wasn't ready to give him. Omi never really could stay angry for long, but he was tenacious when it came to getting what he wanted.

"We're going home Omi. Get in the car." I grumbled, turning to do just that.

"No."

I was halfway across the street when I turned back to him. He stood his ground, glairing defiantly. I have seen these eyes before. Eyes of shining steel. Dammit all, he was going to put up a fight.

"I'm going back inside and I'm going to have a good time. That's what **_I_ **came here for. Go ahead and run away." Then much softer, "You always do."

That couldn't have hurt more if had he shot me.

I stomped right up to him using my height for intimidation, for all the good it did me. He didn't even flinch. Instead he looked into my eyes, issuing a silent challenge. He could win wars with that look. I didn't stand a chance and I knew it.

"Omi. You cant....you don't.... Damn it Omi just get in the fucking car already!" I was just inches away from begging.

We stood there a moment, eyes locked in battle. I felt the seconds tick by and watched my chances grow that much dimmer. But then something happened that I had never expected. Not quite all at once, but when realization set in I couldn't stop from looking deeper. I suddenly _saw_. Really saw, right through his eyes and maybe into his soul. So shocked was I to see what lay there. There was a well of sadness and pit off longing I had never noticed before. I saw fear. I saw self-hatred_. I saw me_

"Why?" It came out so softly it could have been the wind, but his eyes pleaded to know.

Why? A simple question, yet so complicated. He captured me in his gaze and it was all I could do not to flinch at everything I saw there. I have seen these eyes a million times, but until now I had only seen them in the mirror. Here was a reflection of myself staring me in the face. And up till now I never really understood what it was that I had seen. It was all there. Want. Need. Fear. Loathing. All in a hollow soul wanting to be filled with so much more.

I closed my eyes trying to think of what to say that would get him to go with me, instead of....instead of back there, where he would go with someone else. Leave with a nameless, faceless body, and together they would share something that I so desperately wanted and ignored all the same.

Instead of opening my mouth I reached out and slipped my hand inside his. Dropping my mask, my eyes pleaded with his for understanding.

_Please_.

He was hesitant, looking at our hands together for a moment and then ever so gently he grasped my hand as I had his. Maybe even harder. He looked up into my face and his eyes spoke to me.

_Please_.

A silent plea of his own. Among the hesitant tears there was hope, and again I understood. He hadn't wanted to go back inside. Not really. All he had wanted was someone to save him from the loneliness, the darkness of a hollow soul. _He wanted me._

I had wanted, needed this moment for so long that I shivered with that realization. So caught up in my selfish world of denial that I never stopped to think of what Omi had wanted or needed. Selfish for thinking I would pull him down, never to think that he's been treading water here right alongside me, and maybe, just maybe, we could rescue each other. Two bodies fighting the current are better than one, aren't they? And now he was ready to go under... his hand in mine, begging me..._me_ of all people to help him escape the undertow. God I wanted to.

I lifted my other hand and rubbed his cheek lightly, feeling the warmth under my fingertips. Heat traveled though my hand, up my arm and right into my heart. For the first time in a very long time, things were very clear to me.

I could not do this alone. I have tried so hard, fought so hard, and still the emptiness overcame me in the end, as it always did. He could not do it alone either. Perhaps he has had his own battles. It pains me to think that maybe I could have saved him from those hurts, if I had not been so very busy with my own. My self-pity may have cost more than I may ever know.

I watched the inner turmoil of his heart playing across his face and longed to put an end to it. He needed as much as I. How could I deny that any longer. I closed the space between us as he leaned forward into my embrace.

"Are you...?"

"Do you ...?"

"_Please_._"_

It didn't matter who spoke the words or who moved first. Our lips melted into each other's. My thumb lifting his chin, his mouth open and warm. It was as the sweetest honey. It was grace and acceptance. Bright as the sun and just as pure. It was everything I had ever needed.

We are neither perfect nor broken, and on our own we are less than what we should be. But filling ones soul with just that one kiss tells me that we are not as empty as we were just a moment ago. May we never really were. Did I find redemption or absolution? No. I found something much stronger. And with this it really didn't matter.

Yes, we may still drown. The darkness may still gobble us up and spit us out. The nightmares aren't going to just whimsically disappear and rainbows aren't going to mysteriously pop up all over Japan. But I am not alone. **_We_** are not alone. We can help fight each other's demons, and keep the darkness at bay...and _together_ there is no more hollow.

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End file.
